


I dreamed so hard my nose bled

by HashiHimee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Drama, Angst and Tragedy, Cheating, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Female Senju Hashirama, Hurt No Comfort, Sad, Sad Ending, angst and hurt, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashiHimee/pseuds/HashiHimee
Summary: They were both playing with fire and Madara had the feeling he would be the only one who ended up burned.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	I dreamed so hard my nose bled

“Hold on tight for me.”

It wasn’t like Hashirama could do anything else. Panting, sweating and at her limit, Hashirama did exactly that. On her knees, with her legs wide open and a hot cock up her ass, Hashirama hold on tight. He started thrusting once more and Hashirama matched her breaths with his punishing pace as best as she could. Her knuckles white due to the forceful grip she had on the bed’s headboard, her arms started to shake and Hashirama leaned on her forearms. His thrusts deep and rough, possessive and domineering. His chest against her back, both covered in sweat, hot and strong; he leaned in pushing even deeper.

“Come for me.”

A rough whisper against her ear, hot breath strained. And Hashirama came again with a silent moan, her inner muscles clasping around his cock. Her legs quivered and she collapsed. He caught her with an arm around her waist, thrusted three more times and then came deeply in her ass. Always possessive.

There was nothing to be possessive about in that room; everything that she was, was his even if he didn’t know.

Hashirama laid in the dirty sheets, cum dripping between her legs, staring at the dark blue ceiling. She had never understood why he had painted the ceiling blue. Besides, only the bedroom’s ceiling was blue. He got up and opened one of the windows and Hashirama blindly reached for a smoke. There was always a new pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. They both smoked in silence and Hashirama gave him the butt once she was done. There wasn’t an ashtray on the nightstand. Hashirama got up and started gathering her clothes.

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Hashirama finished getting dressed before answering “How long have we been doing this? Four, five years? How many showers have I taken?” She tied her jogging shoes waiting for his replay. His silence was answer enough. Hashirama chuckled humorlessly and stated “Exactly.” She reached the door, he was still sitting at the foot of the bed, another smoke between his fingers, and picked up her gym bag.

“See you.”

Hashirama whispered before walking out of his house. What she wanted didn’t matter, nor mattered her feelings. Hashirama would make sure that everything would stay that way. There was no need to complicate things more than they already were.

*

Madara waited for the front door to be closed before answering back. “See you, Hashirama.”

It wasn’t like he could do anything else. Their deal was simple and things were already more complicated than he would have liked. Madara flopped back and stared at the ceiling. The whole room smelled like sex and smoke. There was still the scent of their cum lingering on the sheets. Five years. It wasn’t even much. But five years were a long time for something like what they had. They were both playing with fire and Madara had the feeling he would be the only one who ended up burned.

*

Hashirama placed the phone between her ear and shoulder and opened the small orange can. She took out two pills and looked for some water. She grabbed the half empty bottle of juice and swallowed the pills. Hashirama interrupted the man on the phone asking “Has something changed or are we still talking about a six months’ timeframe?” The man sighed and replayed sadly “I think more like a four months, Hashirama.” Hashirama took another sip of juice before stating “Wonderful. I’ll see you in two weeks then, Doctor.” She hung up immediately after that.

Four months weren’t much but Hashirama would have to do with what she could get. If she had to take a guess she would say that she only had three, three and a half top, months. She had to work with what she could get. A knock on her office’s door followed by the door opening and closing had her focusing back. “Sister.” Hashirama smiled. “Brother.”

Her brother eyed the bottle of pills, raised an eyebrow and asked, all the while giving her a small manila folder, “Something wrong?” Hashirama scrolled the papers, signed where needed, and answered simply “Absolutely no. If something was wrong you would have been the first to know, sweetie.” Tobirama scrunched his nose and took the folder back. He asked “Dinner tonight?” Hashirama shook her head replaying “I fear I have a date tonight. You know Mito has finally finished his project.” “Tomorrow then.” “Tomorrow.”

*

Madara slammed the door closed, walked to his desk and looked for a smoke before opening one of the windows. His office’s door opened and closed with a soft click and Madara kept smoking and staring down at the street. There was always some sort of traffic jam.

“I want this case closed and over with. I don’t fucking care anymore, Izuna. Everybody know she’s the fucking killer.”

“I know, Madara. We’ll find a way. We are working against tons and tons of money here and that’s the main problem but we’ll find a way.”

Madara threw the butt over the windowsill and watched it fall along the building until it disappeared. His phone buzzed. Twitter. Fucking twitter. Of course it was Hashirama. Madara blocked his screen without opening the notification and turned to his brother. “I’ll go grab a coffee. You want something?” Izuna shook his head and they walked together to the elevator.

Madara crossed the road and walked to the café one block away staring at his phone. Another encounter. Two days from now. Madara could work with that. Agreeing, the feeling of ending up burned became stronger than ever.

*

“How is it possible that your husband still doesn’t know?”

Hashirama glanced at the relaxed form at her side raising an eyebrow. They were sharing the usual smoke after sex but the question wasn’t the usual. He turned his head and stared at her from behind an ethereal wall of smoke. Bottomless black eyes, heavy bags underneath and red rimmed from exhaustion and cigarettes’ smoke. His eyes had never changed in the past five years. Hashirama turned to stare at the blue ceiling again.

“Because there have been no changes in our wedding.”

Hashirama got up and dressed, leave the house and sat in her car. She looked in her gym bag for her bottle of pills and took two with a small sip of blue energy drink. She breathed deeply before starting the car. She drove away crying silently until she reached her brother’s house. She knocked twice and wiped away the tears.

Tobirama opened the door and Hashirama stayed there staring at him before whispering “I just need to calm down a bit.” Her brother steered her to the sofa and they sat side by side quietly for a while.

*

Madara swirled the clear liquid in his flute then dawned it in one gulp. He didn’t even like champagne. Much as he didn’t like this kind of events. Fucking major and his fucking gala to show off. Madara grabbed another flute when a girl from the staff offered it to him, looked around the fucking obnoxious ballroom and made his escape towards the balcony. The night was chill and Madara shivered.

Of course she was there. Beautiful and smiling. In a silky red dress wrapped around her body like a second skin. With her husband attached to her arm. Madara lighted up a smoke angry and sad. The echo of her laughter still in his ears.

“Can I have one?” Madara turned quickly and she was standing there, the chilling breeze moving her hair. She wasn’t smiling anymore. Madara gave her a smoke silently and watched her drag the first two pulls before asking “What are you doing here?”

She puffed out a cloud of thick, almost white, smoke and stated simply “I really don’t like this kind of events. It’s like a parade.” Madara kept staring at her unabashedly and she stared back. When she was done smoking she gave him the butt and whispered “See you.”

She walked away and Madara kept staring at her form; in the reflection in the glass of the tall window Madara saw a small, sad smile on her lips. Madara turned around quickly and wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye before it could fall fisting his other hand tightly.

*

“Hashirama, you have to tell someone. This is really bad.” Hashirama pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply before answering “Someone know. What will happen now? How long have I before more symptoms start showing?” “It’s no more a matter of symptoms showing, Hashirama. It’s a matter of how longer your body will sustain you. This is the end, Hashirama.” Hashirama nodded and stood then stated softly “If that’s the case, thank you, Doctor. This is our last meeting. I hope you have a fulfilling life.”

Hashirama smiled and exited the room, breathed deeply and, once outside the building, headed in the direction of a small park. She needed just a minute and then she would tie all the loose ends.

*

Madara stared at his Twitter frowning. He killed the butt of his smoke in the red ashtray on his coffee table. Thirteen days without a single text from her. His stomach knotted tighter.

Madara turned on the TV and stared at a game of baseball. The volume was muted.

-

Madara exited the courtroom after having won the case; the woman would spent thirty-five years in jail. Fucking finally he could relax. His brother squeezed his shoulder and Madara smiled distractedly before looking for his phone.

His happiness slipped away from him like water down of a drain. Seventeen days and still nothing.

Madara shoved his phone deep in his pocket and briskly walked away.

-

Madara cursed when his phone went off with an incoming call. He turned off the stove and grabbed the phone from the counter.

Izuna’s ID flashed on the screen, smashing the last hope he had to have news from her. Twenty-two days had passed, after all.

“Izuna. Has something happened?” “You know Konoha Corp.?” Of course he knew Konoha Corp. He had been in a fucking relationship with the founder for the last five years. Madara breathed through his nose before answering his brother “What about it?” The doorbell rang loudly, Madara walked towards the door and opened it still waiting for his brother’s answer.

“The founder died.”

Madara stared at the two men standing in front of his door.

One of them, he knew. He was her brother.

-

“Madara? Hey, Madara. Are you still there?”

Madara whispered “I have to go, Izuna.” before ending the call. He kept staring at her brother standing still on his doormat. His eyes red rimmed, devastated and, above all, lost.

Madara distantly heard the sound of his phone breaking in his fist. He was still staring in her brother’s eyes.

The other man gave him an envelope and Madara glanced at the white paper quickly before focusing once more on her brother. He didn’t move to take it.

Madara didn’t move at all, frozen on the spot. One hand smashing his phone, the other gripping his front door. Madara couldn’t move.

-

The sound of her laughter ringed in his ears.

Madara’s arms shook and he whispered a strangled “No.”

Her brother stiffened and clenched his jaw, fisting his hands and looking away.

The other man said “This is for you. She gave it to me. You should take it.”

Madara took the white paper and stared ahead for a long time.

The two other men had long since left when Madara closed the door softly behind him and collapsed against it.

-

Her husband’s sobs and hiccups were loud during her funeral. Madara watched from afar, unable to get any closer.

Her brother was silent and stood stiff, his hands fisted, staring ahead seemingly blind to everything.

Madara stood there until every single one of them had left. He stood there even when a light rain had started pouring. Even the rain was quiet. And Madara was alone.

Madara then walked to her grave clutching a single yellow rose in his hand.

He laid the flower down and stuffed his hand in his pocket before staring at the stone for a moment.

He left and whispered “I would have liked to give you so much more.”

-

Madara sat on his living room floor and gulped down what was left of his vodka. The liquid burned his throat even that time. The white envelope was still laying on the glass coffee table, unopened. Madara stared at it before stretching his fingers as if he wanted to touch it.

He curled his hand in a loose fist and poured more vodka in his glass.

-

Madara wobbled his way towards the kitchen sink, threw up and cleaned his mouth with a grey towel before sinking on the cool floor and staring at the space between his bare feet.

Hashirama had a birthmark right over the bone of her right ankle, on the inner side. Countless times Madara had run his tongue and teeth over her mark and every time she had shivered. It was shapeless, just a splash of darker skin over her always tanned skin.

Madara stared at his unmarked ankle.

-

Madara woke up and rolled on his side, closing his eyes against the faint light coming from the windows. He sat up and stared blearily at his kitchen units before getting up and starting the coffee maker. He run a hand down his face and his gaze zeroed in on the envelope still on the coffee table.

After a shower he left the apartment forcing himself not to look inside his living room.

-

“The news said her brother inherited the whole Konoha Corp. you know? I thought her husband would gain it all.” Izuna’s voice drifter to his ears and Madara gazed at his brother before blinking a couple of times. “What.” Izuna frowned before explaining “I said that Konoha Corp. has been given to Tobirama and not Mito. I thought they at least split it in two but Tobirama has it all now.”

Madara started laughing under the shocked expression of his brother. Of course. Of fucking course she would give her empire to her brother and the her husband. God. No one had never known her.

Madara felt like his heart was been crushed inside his own chest.

-

His hands trembled when Madara unfold the paper. Her voice was drifting in his ears even before he started reading.

_The fact is, Madara, that I simply couldn’t do something like this to you._

_But perhaps I did it all the same. Making you suffer, I mean, hurting you._

_I knew I was dying. I’ve known for more than three years._

_They discovered my brain cancer the week before one of our meeting, three years and a half ago. It was the 16 th of July and we met the 21st._

_It’s funny. Or at least for me it is._

_I was going to tell you something that could have changed our lives._

_Actually. It’s not so funny, after all._

_I had been selfish, hadn’t I?_

_Wanting to spare you the pain but unable to let you go._

_I’m not the good person I believed I was._

_The fact is that you had always made me weak. From the very first time._

_I had been weak for your spiky hair, for your long and cold fingers, for your arms. God. Your forearms were sinful, Madara._

_I had been weak for your rare smiles, for your pink lips and for the fact that no one know that they are plump even if they look so thin._

_I had been weak for your eyes. Pitch black and bottomless._

_I’m seeing them even now, while I’m writing this. They are looking at me angry and sad and desperate and tired. So very tired._

_You have been tired lately. And so am I, Madara._

_I’m so tired._

_Tired of lying._

_There are so many lies in my life, Madara._

_I have never wanted to lie about you._

_You were one of the three things I was so proud of and I wanted to shout it from the top of the world._

_I would have shouted of how much dedicated you are, to your job, to your family, to your morals, to your own justice, to yourself._

_To me._

_I had always been weak for your eyes because they had never lied. Not to me, at least._

_And they had always told me everything, especially when we didn’t talk._

_It was so painful to look at you sometimes. All I could see was something I could never have._

_And it had been my fault._

_I’m sorry, Madara._

_I stole from you something that could have been incredible._

_I’m the thief of my own happiness and of your, as well._

_Nothing could ever repay you from what I stole but I hope you could find someone better than me._

_It’s ok to be angry, sad or depressed. It’s ok if you feel betrayed or lost or lonely. It’s ok if you hate me now._

_I’ve felt all that things for three years and a half._

_But I’ve also felt whole. With you._

_You weren’t the only dedicated one, Madara._

_I…_

_See you, Madara._

_(Please, let me wait for you. Don’t join me so early. If you ever want to join me at all.)_

Madara pressed the paper over his heart and cried curled on himself on the floor of his living room.

-

Madara trailed his fingers lightly over her gravestone.

His eyes were dry. He had no more tears to cry.

But his voice was rough and broken when he whispered “I see you too, Hashirama.”

He turned around and started walking towards the exit.

In the end, they had both turned out burned.

Madara was the only one alive to feel it, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody.  
> I wanted to share this with you. I hope you liked it even if it’s dark and sad.
> 
> A small thing I want to point out: yellow roses mean apology, intense emotion, undying love, extreme betrayal, a broken heart and infidelity, among other things according to Wikipedia, at least. I think the yellow rose just fits right in this situation, even the meaning of infidelity for Hashirama was always cheating on Mito with Madara and their relationship was what it was.
> 
> Please comment and let me know what do you think about this for this is the first time I write something like this and your feedbacks will help me get better!
> 
> As always I’m my own beta, so point out any mistake and I’ll try to correct them.  
> #NoBetaWeDieLikeShinobi
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> -Hh


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